


Damage

by ArtGuruSauce



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtGuruSauce/pseuds/ArtGuruSauce
Summary: Gladion wakes up in the Po Town infirmary after a fall-out with the police. At first he's left confused, until his boss Guzma comes in to check on him...





	Damage

Memories slowly melted back into his brain as he stirred. There was something...something wrong. Something very, _very_ wrong. His chest felt too heavy, but he could hardly feel anything. Was he... _numb_? Why was he numb? What happened? Slowly, it came rushing back, one sentence at a time, one second of events that had already past dripping back into his head piece by piece. Yes, he remembered now. He was...fighting. It was Po Town, a place he recognized well enough. He wouldn't say it was home, he slept at motels more than he slept in any abandoned residence there. But still, he was fighting to defend it; it was what he had to do.

Someone got cold feet...the police would have never found them otherwise. They were ratted out by one of their own. He was on the front lines, as were several other grunts. His Type:Null is out, and the only thing he was yelling was orders to take out either the pokemon that stood against them, or the officers themselves. But things began to escalate far too quickly. Several grunts were already severely injured, either from the police's pokemon or from the police's brute force by itself. A tactic they pulled out when they realized they were outnumbered. 

_Cowards..._ he detested, mentally.

At least they wouldn't dare fire on the pokemon, it was the only solace he had, that his companion wouldn't be hurt by much more than another pokemon's move. However, _he_ didn't have the same luxury. It came back to him now; the gunshot, his stomach, the blood, the Hyperbeam that had sent him flying after the fact, yelling from both sides. All of them about him...about how he'd be avenged, how he'd be ok, how the officer behind the pokemon that hit him was a fool. But, he also remembered...someone _else_. Someone he swore he recognized. He reached out and said a single word...

"Dad...?"

\---

Gladion sat up, breathing heavily as if his lungs were completely still the entire time he was dreaming. Or...rather, having a nightmare. At best it could be called an unpleasant memory. He noted the breathing mask and IV. At first he was worried he may be in a local hospital, but he was immediately calmed by the crudely spray painted logos and vulgar phrases that littered the walls and floors, and the torn up mattress he sat on. For a moment, the memory he had just regained slipped away from him again. He pondered about why he was here...where was everyone else? Then more important questions came to mind: where were the police? Where's Type:Null? Was everyone else arrested? Was he... _all alone_? 

He removed his oxygen mask, and he stared intently at his left hand as he held it. A few more details came flooding back, and he remembered who it was that he was talking to before it all went dark. It was...

"Kid!"

Gladion looked up, surprised to see his boss peering at him from behind a rack of curtains that covered the stairwell behind them. Carefully, he spoke his first words since stirring, "G...Guzma?" Guzma slowly approached him, and stopped just a couple feet from the bed. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, as if debating what he should say. "How...are ya feelin'?" Gladion noticed finally the bandages wrapped around and attached to his face, as well as his stomach. He couldn't feel pain...perhaps they had given him drugs, "I...I don't...feel... _anything_." Silence...then Guzma chuckled, "You bein' literal this time or should I assume you've been broodin' in here?" 

Gladion huffed. Even when he was practically hospitalized he suffered teasing. _Figures..._ he thought. He shook his head and continued, "Everything's numb. _Especially_ my abdomen." Guzma's chuckles were silenced, and something resembling guilt crossed onto his face, but only for a moment. A moment was all Gladion needed to notice, however. "Yeah...she prolly put too much anesthesia in your system. Not that I blame the girl, you had us all spooked, kid." Gladion clenched his bed sheets, and his expression hardened. He'd been working for Guzma, for Team Skull for two years now. He knew the risks of joining a gang, his image would certainly suffer, but he could deal with that.

And he had no issue fighting anyone, even if they were innocent or didn't deserve the trouble they were receiving. He had to worry about himself, about his sister. He had to be stronger...he had to be _better_. Guzma knew who he was the moment he showed up on his doorstep. You couldn't possibly not know the face of a child of the President of the Aether Foundation. Especially not when you work _with_ said President behind closed doors...doors that are closed further than even your closest associates and employees. It's not like Guzma agreed with Lusamine's insane ramblings, he certainly came to disagree with her driving her own children away.

Deep down, the more and more he came to teach and guide the boy, the more guilty he felt about giving Lusamine a _second_ of his time. The boy shouldn't be here...he should be at home. He should be _doted_ by his mother, not _abused_ by her. It's not like he didn't take notice of the aggressive sensitivity the boy took to his left hand. Guzma often considered asking Lusamine about her children, but he decided against it. Even despite how curious he was about where exactly this boy's father was in all this...perhaps his parents were divorced? Regardless, he had never intended for the boy to be wrapped up in turf war like that day. Not for him...not like that.

"Where's Null?" Gladion suddenly spoke up, startling them both at least somewhat from the sudden break of the silence that buried their thoughts. Guzma's brows raised up and he began fishing through one of his pockets, "Oh, that's why I came up here actually. Catch." Carefully, Guzma tossed the boy his pokeball. As soon as he caught it, he sighed involuntarily with relief. He had been worried the police had confiscated it...or worse. "It was like somethin' out of a movie I tell ya. As soon as ya went down he started rampaging without a single order from _anybody_! Thanks to him the police turned tail and ran. We ain't heard a peep out of 'em since then."

A thought suddenly dawned on Gladion, "How long _has_ it been since _then_ , exactly?" Guzma stuffed his hands back in his pockets and rolled his eyes in thought, "Just a day. Don't worry. It ain't been _decades_ or some fever dream crap like that. Peg did everythin' she could as soon as I left 'er with ya. She said you'd be fine, but you prolly shouldn't move for a couple days." Gladion winced at this. "I'm _fine_ -" he began, attempting to stand but tumbling to the floor with hardly any control of himself. Guzma quickly grabbed the boy and put him back in bed, keeping a steady glare trained directly in his line of sight.

"Kid. I know I said we look past our failures and get our asses back up after we fall, but it's more of a metaphorical thing. Don't be an idiot."

Gladion huffed and sat down, swatting Guzma's hands off of him in the process. It was quiet again for another long moment or two. Thoughts clouded both their minds, but Gladion's head slowly started to swirl with thoughts of the attack. He was such a well-made member of the team, the kind of loyal grunt that most gangs would kill to have. But most often forgot he was merely a child. He was just a boy, hardly even a teenager at that. The dark world that was thrust on him sometimes was too much for his young mind to handle. And yesterday was the darkest of reality he could have faced; death itself. His expression visibly faltered, and he seemed to even forget anybody was in the room with him. 

His breathing became so heavy that it was audible. At first Guzma thought he might be having a seizure, perhaps a heart attack? But then Gladion's eyes met his. It wasn't his usual eyes, the eyes of a determined fighter. No...no it was the kind of eyes you'd expect from any _other_ child in this situation. They were full of fear, they were full of uncertainty. He looked lost. Guzma was so caught up in how unusual the look was he nearly missed it when Gladion actually spoke, "W...Was I...? D...did I almost...?" He almost didn't want to finish it, he wanted to believe that he was strong enough to get through this. But his mouth betrayed his mind and the words slipped out bitterly like poison, "...Could I have _died_?"

The shock had finally hit him. It was delayed, probably from all the questions he was likely asking himself. At least, this is what Guzma concluded from this sudden change in Gladion's demeanor. It was obvious...he had never experienced a near-death situation like that. As no child should even _consider_ experiencing something so grim. The boy was smart, Guzma would never patronize him by lying about how tough and unsympathetic life could get. He was always honest with the boy, no matter how cold the truth was. But this truth was far _too_ cold...and Guzma knew that. _Maybe he deserves to know the truth. But...he also deserves to feel safe. He's just a kid... _he thought. He grabbed Gladion's shoulders and gave him a re-assuring look in return.__

____

"N...No. Kid, of course not. It was just uhhh...a flesh wound is all." Gladion knew he was lying, but for some reason, he found it to be comforting rather than insulting. His tensed composure eased up, but his eyes were still like that of a deerling gazing into headlights. Guzma wondered what he was thinking again, until Gladion's shaky voice pierced the air once more, "I...I remember...I thought I saw..." He waited patiently for the boy to finish. He had been curious since he knew the boy was ok what exactly he would remember. He wouldn't dare ask, though. Not so soon. 

____

"I thought...I saw my dad." 

____

Suddenly, it hit Guzma like a ton of bricks, he knew what the boy was talking about. Guzma didn't think he'd _ever_ burn out the image from his head. Yes, the boy saw someone indeed. And he did address that person as his father...but clearly he didn't remember the rest of what happened from there. Guzma, however, knew full well what happened. A moment that had haunted him for the past 24 hours... 

____

\--- 

____

"Dad...?" 

____

Guzma held the boy carefully, he was fighting the tears at his eyes. He wouldn't feign weakness...not now. The boy needed him. He had to be strong. The yells of Team Skull members and the police, and the loud noises of both pokemon's cries and gunfire filled the air. But somehow...he could hear the boy's shriveling voice just fine. He was staring at Guzma with complete confusion in his eyes. Guzma answered, hesitantly, "K-Kid...y...you're gonna be fine, ok? Just hang in there!" Gladion's eyes widened, as if realizing he had made a mistake. He coughed, and blood soaked his hand as he covered his mouth. 

____

"I...I'm sorry. I...failed you. I failed _everyone_...!" tears streamed down the boy's face as he spoke. He was in shock...Guzma couldn't tell whether or not he even realized he was dying. "You can worry about that later, kid. J-Just quit talkin', alright? We're gonna get you help!" Unexpectedly, Gladion smiled softly. It wasn't a coy smirk, a rare but not impossible sight to see. No...this smile was genuine, it was peaceful. His glazed eyes were looking at Guzma with the sort of fear you'd expect see in a boy his age. "I'm...I'm sorry. I just...wanted...t-to make you proud..." His smile became a grimace as the shock began to take full effect. 

____

"Dad...please. _Please_ don't let go of me...!" Was the last coherent sentence that left the boy's mouth before he gripped onto Guzma's shirt, as if it were his only lifeline. For the next ten minutes, until he was put under, he would be rambling and whimpering both nonsense and fearful prayers to Arceus. Despite being unable to get through to the boy in this state, Guzma wouldn't dare stop reassuringly whispering to him. 

____

\--- 

____

The boy's memory seemed to be scrambled. Perhaps he had been hallucinating...or maybe... 

____

"You were just seein' things. It was just me," Guzma clarified. However, Gladion already knew this. In fact, he was lying when he said he thought that Guzma was his father...his real father. He was merely trying to see just how much Guzma was willing to omit from him, perhaps even clarify anything Guzma may not have understood. It was true; the lie that he wouldn't have died was comforting. In fact, he appreciated it. But he still wasn't going to let Guzma lie about everything...Gladion was stronger than that. He could handle knowing few things, but Guzma seemed to be judging that _for_ him. And he _wasn't_ going to have it. 

____

"Did I say anything to you...?" Gladion prodded. Guzma was silent for a moment, and it was hard to tell if he was trying to remember or trying to formulate a lie. Guzma's answer cleared up Gladion's curiosity quickly. 

____

"Nah...not really. You were just...ramblin'. You went into shock real quick and-" 

____

"That's _not_ what happened, Guzma." 

____

His expression was a mixture of anger and the fear that still haunted the back of his mind. Guzma blinked in shock at the sudden statement. But he knew the boy well enough to realize quickly what he meant by this. "Shit..." Guzma swore under his breath. Hurt slipped into one of the many emotions that danced in Gladion's eyes, "Why would you lie to me? I don't...understand..." He shook, but not by any will of his own. And despite fighting his hardest against it, tears flowed down his cheeks again. In perhaps an impulse or instinctual moment, Guzma pulled the boy into a hug, a silent retort Gladion certainly wasn't expecting. 

____

"I...I'm sorry, kid. You ain't a baby...I shouldn't treat ya like one. But this was serious, alright? When shit gets serious...people say things that you don't expect them to say. I guess...I wasn't ready to hear that from ya." 

____

Gladion blinked. He sank into the hug half-heartedly. He should've known better than to expect Guzma to just be ok with such a sudden title as "father". Gladion was nothing more than canon-fodder to these people, he knew that when he practically broke down their door demanding a position. What a fool Gladion was to think he would possibly be ok with getting _that_ close. He was just his boss, he had no time to get attached. That _should_ have been obvious. What was he thinking? However, in one sudden moment, all his thoughts and internal curses to himself were dispelled as Guzma continued. 

____

"But...for what it's worth, kid...you never fail me. And I've always been proud of ya. You've got guts...guts even _I_ never had." 

____

The tears became sobs in just a few seconds, as Gladion wrapped his arms around Guzma in a tight grip. He shook again, and seconds became minutes as they continued to hug out all their unspoken griefs. Guzma had a thought that perhaps the boy was too frightened to be let go. In _any_ sense. Then it was his turned to be shocked when Gladion spoke up again through choked sobs, "I...I-I wasn't...hallucinating, Guzma." His grip on the boy loosened, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back to get a good look at him. As if the boy's eyes would give him confirmation that he didn't just imagine that statement. 

____

"What...?" Guzma asked, still in disbelief at what he just heard. If he even actually heard it. Perhaps the stress had driven him temporarily mad. Gladion wiped the ever-flowing tears from his face, "I...I knew it was you. When I called you my dad...I...I wasn't sure if it was you at _first_ , but it was _you_ I was calling for. But...when I knew for sure it was you...I cursed myself for letting it slip. But, I...the pain...i-it hurt so much...!" Guzma interjected the boy's explanation that had devolved into rambling, and silenced the boy with a single word. 

____

"Kid." 

____

Gladion stared up at Guzma, still unable to stop himself from crying. He _hated_ crying... _especially_ in front of others. He was supposed to be strong...weeping was for the weak and unworthy. As a matter of fact, he hadn't dared allowed himself to cry or feign weakness for years now. He vowed to himself not to. If he did...it would merely just mean his mother's cruel assumptions of him were correct. His hand ached at the mere thought of her bitter voice laughing over his defenseless body. Years of torment, of pretending as if nothing about the adult world or even the unfairness of life bothered him had suddenly fallen completely apart. Then, his philosophy began to melt with Guzma's next words. 

____

"You don't gotta apologize for anythin'," He gave Gladion a genuine, gentle smile before continuing, "I ain't been the best dad...but I guess you're right. I've been a lot like yer dad since ya showed up, huh? Don't sweat it...just...don't do it in front of the others, alright?" He pouted, embarrassment causing his face to flush. "I still gotta be the big man around here for everybody else. Got it?" Gladion peered at Guzma for a short moment...before nodding and chuckling through sobs, "Yeah...no problem. I'll just call you old fossil!" Guzma smirked, putting the boy in a headlock, but careful not to be too rough as he gave him a noogie. 

____

"Ya think yer funny, ya lil shit?" 

____

Gladion couldn't help but laugh, the most joyful and childish he had ever been in fact, "H-Hey! Quit it!" 

____

From behind the curtains that covered the stairwell, a young woman sat in a black tank top and saggy sweat pants. She wore her hair tightly in estranged pigtails that jutted out from her hair clips that resembled the empty eye sockets of a human skull. Her normal scowl was replaced with a satisfied smirk, as she quietly stood up and made her way back down the stairs from where she had come. 

____


End file.
